Thyella
by serial-charmer
Summary: RoLo. A revision of what was started. An unexpected person returns to the mansion and shakes things up.
1. Prologue

Prologue:

_**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em. Wish I did. OH! Scenes for the first chunk were taken from Ultimate X-Men #44-45. Other'n that, ideas are mine._

Heavy clouds rumble, threatening to break open. The graying Capitol blends into the background. The group on the steps appears curious, almost probing. She moves through the crowd below, signs flanking her on either side: "Muties Go Home." "Mutation is a Sin."

The signs make her stomach roll, but she is quick to swallow, burying her anger beneath a calm façade. She is on a mission. She's looking for someone, sure he will be there. This is why he left, after all.

Then she spots him, crouching in the center of the group. He seems unsure, nervous, yet willing. A rip of thunder. Lightening breaks the clouds. Eyes dart to the sky. Sentinels.

Reactions are quick. Amidst the disorder, one command is heard, "Save the President. Save the mutants!" Angel takes to the skies, carrying Wolverine along with him. The Sentinel's eyes release beams of energy, threatening the two heroes. He drops him. Wolverine slashes his claws into the enemy's metal chest, slicing him to the feet.

Cyclops focuses his beams on the knees, hoping to topple it.

Above, she shouts "Jean, help me on the steps. Professor, we need to…"

Silence. "Oh no…"

He looks small from her height. Almost unreal. Blue fur beneath crushing boulders.

Her voice falters, his name barely a whisper on her lips.

"Henry?"

* * *

"Henry!" She bolted upright in her bed, strands of hair sticking to her face. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in her surroundings. Darkness. Only the moonlight shined on the bed, the beams reflected on her sheets. She folded her legs slowly, allowing the silken material to fall from her upper body, and rested her chin on her knees.

A rough hand graced the small of her back. "'Ro? You okay darlin'?

She continued to stare into the darkness, fighting back the tears. Finally, she responded, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Ororo?

She looked down at him, traces of moonlight across his face. She couldn't help but smile as she lay back down, snuggling against his chest. "Just a dream is all, Logan. Just a dream."

He kissed her forehead before laying his head back on the pillow, his arm pulling her tighter, wanting to protect her from the night. He never knew what she dreamed of – only that these nightmares were becoming more frequent. He stifled a growl and closed his eyes, willing himself back to sleep.


	2. Chapter 1 Distance

Chapter 1: Distance

_**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em. Wish I did_

"I thought maybe we could head over to the mall today? I want to get a new dress for my date tomorrow." Jean leaned forward on the bar stool and looked down at her newspaper. "What's a six letter word for 'chooses,' first letter 'E'?" After getting no response, she looked up.

Ororo stood at the sink, her back to Jean, mechanically chopping onions.

"'Ro?"

"Elects."

"What? Oh!" She pulled the pencil from behind her ear and wrote the word in the boxes. "How about—"

"Mornin' ladies." Logan wandered over to the sink and wrapped his arms around Ororo's waist. Kissing her neck, he whispered "Mornin' darlin'"

He could feel her tense in his arms, feel her skin grow hot. "Hi Logan."

Pulling away, he leaned back against the counter next to her. "'Hi Logan?'"

No response.

"Hmph." He started to leave the kitchen, stopping in the doorway to look back at her. She stood still, remaining silent. Logan grunted as he stormed down the hallway.

Ororo shut her eyes tightly, gripping a knife in one hand and making a fist with the other.

Jean set aside her crossword puzzle. "'Ro? Honey, you alright?"

After a pause, "I've been having dreams again."

"Dreams?"

"Of Hank."

"Oh, sweetie…" Jean moved across the kitchen to stand next to her friend.

"I-I haven't had dreams like this in years. Right after…after he died. At first, they were more like memories. The prison, the experiments. But last night…It was so real, Jean. That day all over again. It's as if he's—"

_Jean, Ororo. I need you in my office immediately.

* * *

_

Ororo shut the door behind her softly, leaning her back against it. She looked over to Logan pulling a duffel bag out of the closet. "Hey."

Without looking up, he responded, "I'm headin' out tomorrow. Chuck's got me and one-eye on another of his mutant hunts. Somewhere out west."

"I know. He detected something else a few hours ago. He's sending Rogue, Jean, and I up North to check it out."

Logan walked over to the bed, throwing clothes into his bag. "A mutant?"

"He's not sure. Says it's something he's never seen before. When will you be back?"

"Dunno. Week. Maybe two." He looked at her, "You pretendin' to care now?"

She looked at the ground. "That's not fair."

"Sorry. It's the best I've got." They remained silent for what seemed like an hour. Her at the door, him still packing. "I don't get it, darlin'. We been doin' great almost a year now. Then ya go and clam up on me—"

"I'm s—"

"I ain't lookin' for an apology, 'Ro." He dropped the bag on the ground, looking over at her. His arms crossed in front of his chest, his white t-shirt straining against his muscles. "I'm lookin' for answers."

"Answers that I can't give you right now. I don't know what's been going on myself!"

"You been havin' those dreams again."

"How did you—"

"Please, I ain't a moron. I see ya thrashin' about in bed, I hear ya callin' out his name. He's dead, 'Ro! Dead. He ain't comin' back." Immediately, he wished he hadn't said it.

She winced. Her nose flared and her eyes watered. She knew he was dead. She knew she'd never see him again. Of course she knew.

She gave him one last look of hurt and disgust and fled the room.

Logan looked down at the belt in his hand for a brief moment before slamming it against the wall. "Shit."


	3. Chapter 2 Sleep and Dreams

Chapter 2: Sleep and Dreams

_**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em. Wish I did. Again, though, a few borrowed panels from Ultimate X-Men #45._

Logan shut the door softly behind him. The room was dark, but the moon shone on her slender figure, reflecting off of her white hair.

_God, she's beautiful._ He watched her sleep, her back to him in the bed. Even on her side, he could see her rhythmic breathing. She seemed calm, at peace. Finally.

He slid out of his jeans and through them on the floor, stripping down to his boxers. He pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He wanted to protect her, even in her sleep.

She moved slightly to form to his embrace, willing him to press his body closer to hers. He nestled his head into the crook of her neck and inhaled slowly. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "I love ya darlin'"

Before he drifted to sleep, he barely heard her reply, "I love you."

* * *

The sun shines on the group behind the mansion. Everyone's there. They would never miss this.

She bows her head, her hair hiding her face. She can't let them see her weakness. She cannot be weak.

It happened so fast. Too fast.

She stares at the grass, watches a leave land softly in front of her. She lets out a small laugh.

He rests his hand on her back. "I'm here," he whispers.

_No you're not._

She remains motionless, even as they lower him into the ground.

He's gone. There's nothing left. Nothing.

Her eyes squint, pushing the tears out. He pulls her closer to him, kissing her forehead. She takes his blue hand in her own, pressing them both to her heart.

"I never left you," he whispers.

* * *

Her eyes fluttered open. She turned in his arms to look at him, pulling the sheets to cover them both.

After some time, she spoke softly, "Logan?"

His eyes still closed, he immediately responded, "Yeah?"

"You were awake?"

"All night."

"I had another one…another dream."

He opened his eyes, startled. He stared at her for sometime before sitting up and leaning against the head board. "And?"

She sat up next to him, eyes focused on her lap. "It was the funeral. He was there."

"Ororo…"

"No, I mean there. Next to me. His arms were around me, his hand holding mine."

Logan shifted uncomfortably. "Got it."

"You don't get it."

"'Course I do. Look, I know ya loved him. I know ya missed him. I ain't gonna force ya to move on."

"I have moved, Logan. Yes, I loved him. He'll always be a part of me. But so will you."

"I can't compete with that. If he were alive, you two'd still be together."

"I don't know. Maybe. He left, remember? Obviously things weren't going as well as I'd thought…"

"So, what?" He paused, looking over at her. "You think we'd be together now if he were still here?"

Again, a pause. "Logan." She met his gaze. "I love you. I'm with you now because I don't want to be with anyone else. These dreams are just something I have to go through. I want you there with me."

"Heh." He wrapped his arm around her, letting her rest against him. "I'll always be with ya darlin'. Always."


	4. Chapter 3 Missions

Chapter 3: Missions

_**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em. Wish I did._

_Zipping up the top of her black leather jumpsuit, she looks in the mirror. Ready. She's ready. She's been waiting her entire life for this moment. _

_She walks over to the vanity, reaches for a rubber band, pulls her hair back in a tight ponytail. _

_Adrenaline. It courses through her body. She's willing. She grabs her gloves off the dresser and walks out the door, slamming it behind her._

_Her boots echo off the hardwood floor as she marches down the hall. This is her time._

_She knows what she has to do._

_The elevator. Lower Level._

_The door opens. She looks around, making sure no one has followed her. No one. She is alone. Alone._

_Turning left, she moves down the barren hall. It's all metal. Sterile. _

_She slams her hand into one of the gloves, stretches her fingers to the end, fastens at the wrist, repeats._

_She turns the corner and enters the hanger. Waits patiently at the industrial doors. They open slowly. It's a new day. It's her day. _

_She steps outside. Start at her feet. Pan up (this is the money shot). The sunlight reflects off her outfit. She's beautiful, tough, prepared. She's—_

"Rogue!" Jean and Ororo stood at the entry to the hanger.

Rogue blushed. "Yeah, Ahm comin'!" She squints up at the sun, then turns around to find the two girls staring at her, grinning.

"What? Jean, whatya know?"

"I'm a telepath, Rogue. I know all."

Rogue snarled at her. "Not like ya'll ain't done it before!" She stomped past them into the jet.

Jean and Ororo looked at each other and laughed before following her up the platform.

* * *

"This it? This why we got up at 5 AM!" Rogue stood on the ground with Storm, her hands resting on her hips.

Jeans reached the bottom of the platform and looked around. They had landed on a small clearing in a dense forest. "Well…"

Rogue spun around to face Jean and waved her hand in the air. "We supposed to find somethin' here!"

Storm moved forward past some nearby trees then turned to face her partners. "The professor did say it was unusual…"

"Unusual? Storm, there ain't nothin' unusual about it! We're in the middle of the woods! These ain't Sentinels or mutants. These are trees and bugs!"

Jean perked. "Can it, Rogue."

"Am Ah the only one ta—"

"Shh!" Jean raised her hand to silence Rogue. "Did you guys hear that?"

Rogue crossed her arms in frustration. "No."

Storm looked around thoughtfully. She reached out a hand to grace a nearby tree and closed her eyes. Blue. Fur. Blood. Her eyes bolted open. Shaking her head, she looked to Jean.

Jean frowned. "There's something here…" She turned in the clearing, moving closer to the edge. "No…some**one**."

Rogue looked back and forth at her two teammates. "Ya'll are nuts."

Jean froze "Oh my God."


	5. Chapter 4 Clearing in the Woods

Chapter 4: A Clearing in the Woods

_**Disclaimer: **There once was a girl named Alex. She did not own the X-Men. This made her sad._

"Where is he? I know he's here."

"Storm, it doesn't make sense!"

"Jean, I can feel him. He's—"

"Hey! Ya'll wanna clue me in here?" Rogue looked incredulously at Jean.

"I'm finding him."

"Storm wait!" But it was too late. She had had already taken to the skies. "It has to be a mistake…" Jean looked to a confused Rogue.

"I think I felt Hank."

"You what? Jean, Beast is dead. We all saw him--"

"And now I feel him!"

"You're wrong."

"Get up there. Find her. I'll scan the woods."

Rogue stared at her. "Ya'll are crazy!" She yelled below as she bolted into the air.

* * *

"Find anything?"

"I'm workin' on it one-eye."

"Logan, cut it out. We have a job to do here."

"Then let me do that job and quit askin' me if I found anythin'. I'll let ya know!" With a growl, Wolverine ripped the communicator of his wrist and threw it behind him in the sewer.

"Logan? Wolverine!" He rolled his eyes. _He's uncontrollable. The Professor, me, the entire Canadian armed forces can't keep him from doing whatever he wants._ He reached his hand up to adjust the level on his visor and let out a narrow beam of energy, blasting away debris that blocked his way.

* * *

"Storm! _Jean, I can't find her._"

"_Keep looking."_

"_I've been up here for half an hour!"_

"_Got her. Go east. She's there."_

Rogue immediately veered to the right. In a matter of minutes, she came across another, smaller clearing. Storm sat in the middle, hunched over the body that lay in her lap.

Rogue nearly fell to the ground, stunned. _Jean, get over here. Now.

* * *

_

He froze. The sight before him left him stunned, unable even to close his eyes.

"Wolverine!" Cyclops shouted from a nearby tunnel. "Hey!" Rounding the corner, he spotted Wolverine. "We're on a mission here! You can't just—" Speechless.

"Found 'em here a little bit ago."

"Oh God…" Then, "Are they—?"

"Yeah."

The two men stood at the entrance to an expanse in the sewer system. Medical cots were set up in rows like a war-time hospital. On each, lay a body, none of them moving.

Cyclops stepped forward, using his hand to block the stench from his nose. Wolverine followed.

They walked up and down the aisles, stopping at every cot. Mutants. The sound of blood dripping to the floor echoed in Wolverine's ears. "They're all kids."

From across the clearing, Cyclops read off of a clipboard. " 'Subject number 00585. Side effects: Overheating (internal temperature 110 F); blistering; eventually death. Duration of stay: Three years' Wolverine…"

"They been testin' on these kids for years. Xavier said he picked up a mutant, not a hundred dead ones!"

"Wolverine—"

His head suddenly perked. "You hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Footsteps. Marching."

A gun shot bounces off the tunnel walls, quickly followed by a dozen more shots.

"We have to get out of here now! Get back to the Mansion. Talk to the—"

"We ain't leavin' 'em here Cyclops!"

"Wolverine, we'll find out who did this, but they're dead! This is recon. We'll be no good to them if we're put out of commission."

Unable to admit Cyclops was right, Wolverine stayed silent and took off running behind him.

* * *

He couldn't move.

He had struggled so hard, traveled so far, to get to there. All he wanted was to reach his hand to her face, to say anything to her. But all he could do was lie there, silent and motionless.

He never should have left. He knew that. He didn't even know where he was anymore.

But it didn't matter. He was home now. He was in her arms.

She held him on her lap, rested her head on his chest, listened to his heart.

It was beating. It was real.

She lifted her head to look into his face. His eyes seemed distance, absent, yet they looked directly into hers.

She stroked his cheek. What was once soft was now coarse and matted. Blood and dirt clung to his fur.

He was beautiful. He was alive.

Right? She had seen him die. He'd been dead for five years—

"Storm?"

"It's him, Rogue. Isn't it? He's here, in my lap?"

Rogue gently wrapped her arm around Storm. "Yeah, sugah. It's him."

Crouching in front of the trio, Jean looked intently at Beast. Closing her eyes, images of the past five years flooded her mind – needles, doctors, blood, suffering, death.

The surge of memories knocked her to the ground as her eyes bolted open. "Let's get him back to the mansion."


	6. Chapter 5 Loving Her

Chapter 5: Loving Her

_**Disclaimer:** There once was a girl named Alex. She did not own the X-Men. This made her sad._

From across the room, Ororo's fingers dug into the chair. Her feet barely skimmed the floor, her knees draped over her hands.

He'd been sleeping all day and into the night. It was four in the morning.

In the days after his death, she had thought about what it would be like to see him again. All she wanted was to touch him, to kiss him, to throw her body into his, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck.

It wasn't like that at all. She didn't want to be there, didn't want to look at him.

But she had to.

She sat as far away from him as possible.

"This is interesting. It's kind of a twist, ya know? You being alive and all. I can't say I really expected that. I guess you didn't either." She laughed uncomfortably. "But who would, right?"

She paused for a while to look around the sterile room.

"Should we start getting used to this kind of thing? I mean, first Jean, and then…well…Jean. Peter is alive, too. And now you're here."

She laughed again, this time to hold back tears. "You guys can't keep doing this to us. It's not fair, this tug-of-war."

She fixed her eyes to the ground, another desperate attempt to maintain control. Outside, a light rain began to fall.

Quietly, almost inaudible, "You said you'd never leave me."

The sound of distant thunder. "You promised me Henry. You swore you'd always be there."

The wind outside picked up, carrying the thunder closer. Rain threatened to break the windows.

She looked up, angrily wiping the tears away from her white eyes. A flash of lightening. "Liar."

She bolted from her seat, moving to quickly close the distance between her and Hank. "You fucking liar!"

The room resonated with the storm outside as she brought her fists down on his arm, his chest, his stomach. "I waste a year with you and you fucking leave me! We needed you – I needed you!"

Her words caught in her throat as she choked on the tears, her movements frantic.

"'Ro! What's goin' on?" Logan ran into the med lab, Jean trailing right behind him.

Ignoring the intruders, she continued to slam her fists into his body. "Why did you even come back? We don't need you anymore! We don't want you here!"

"Hey! Storm, c'mon—" Logan grabbed her by the waist, pulling her off of Hank's limp body.

Jean raced to his side, checking on his vitals.

Ororo's arms and legs flailed wildly, kicking and scratching at the air.

"I hate you! I hate you!" Her voice cracked as she screamed.

Logan pulled her down to the ground with him, cradling her in his arms. Exhausted and sniveling, she buried her face deep in his chest. Quietly, muffled, "Why is he still here?"

He smoothed her hair, pressing her body closer to his. "Shhh…I dunno, darlin'. I dunno…"

* * *

**The next day…**

The two walked outside to the waiting car. Scott shook hands with one. "Good to see you, Pete. It's been a while." He smiled and turned to the girl, embracing her before taking her suitcases. "You, too, Kitty." Scott slammed the hood shut after throwing their bags in the trunk. "How was your flight?"

"It was good my friend. Russian airports—"

"How is she Scott?"

He paused, as if choosing the words carefully. "It's good you're here."

* * *

Ororo threw the towel in the corner before collapsing on her bed. She stretched her arms, held them there, relaxed, and dropped them to her sides. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. She remained in that position for a while before the door slowly open.

A small smile spread across her face. "Hi."

"Hey. How ya feelin'?"

"Good."

"I bet the danger room's seen better days…"

She opened one eye to look at him before opening the other. "I was just venting."

"Understandable."

She sat up, leaning against the headboard, and smiled seductively at Logan. "Are you just going to stand in the doorway all night?"

He crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. He said nothing.

"Logan?"

"You can talk to me ya know. About this whole thing with—"

"There's nothing to say."

"Like hell. 'Ro—"

"No. He's back. He's alive." She crossed her arms over her chest. "So what?"

"Darlin', I don't get you sometimes. Just last night—"

"I was angry! I needed to take it out on someone. I just spent three hours in the Danger Room! I'm fine now."

"God, just listen to yerself. Y'sound like nothin' ever happened." Stupid. Why would he say that?

She could feel it inside her, feel it snap. "What the hell do you want from me? You want to know how I really feel? You want to hear that I'm being torn apart inside? He's dead to me, Logan! It doesn't matter that he's lying there, breathing, in that goddamn hospital! You can't even begin to understand, so don't you dare tell me what I _sound _like!"

He moved back, startled. "You think I don't know how it feels, Storm? The guy's one o' my best friends—"

She scoffed. "Yeah, 'friend.'"

"Fine," he bit back. "But don't forget that Jean—" He stopped himself.

Ororo winced. The argument had gone too far, they both knew it. She looked down at her lap, fumbling with her hands. "I don't want to fight with you."

"I know."

"I missed him."

He moved to sit beside her, their shoulders touching. "Yeah."

"We were talking about getting our own place. Somewhere close, sure, but we wanted to be alone. Then he left and…Well, you know the rest."

She looked over to Logan. He didn't respond.

"But that was okay."

He looked up at her, startled.

"Yeah. I mean, like I said other night, we were having problems anyway. I saw it coming, so when he left, he hurt my pride more than anything."

"So what happens now?" Logan surprised himself with the bluntness of the question.

She met his gaze. "I love _you,_ if that's what you mean."

He took her hand in his own. "That's enough fer me, darlin'."

* * *

Jean sat, one leg crossed over the other, on a stool by the cot. She grabbed a yellow legal pad off the desk behind her. "Okay…"

"Jean?"

She wrote "Henry McCoy" at the top, not looking up when she responded, "Yes?"

"Jean, look at me."

She froze for a moment, then finally looked up to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, Hank. It's just…It's a little—"

"I know it is. I'm sorry I—"

"Don't be." She flashed a genuine smile. "It's good to have you home."

She started to write something on the notepad before she pausing and dropping it to the ground beside her. "Talk to me, Hank. Not as some doctor, but as a friend."

He turned his head, looking away from her.

"I scanned your mind in the forest. I can't—I saw what happened, but I can't piece it together. What happened?"

No response.

"Henry?"

"It was clean when we first got there."

"'We?'"

"There were...I don't know how many. It was sterile at first. Like it is here. It didn't last long. There was heat. A lot of heat. Fire. They came in every day with their pills and their needles and—that was it." He faced her now, looking her in the eyes. "I don't know what happened next."

"Do you remember anything before you—"

"No. Not much anyway. Some things."

"Like what?"

"I remember loving her."

* * *

She floated a foot off the ground, her eyes closed, hands resting calmly on her knees. She breathed in deeply, held it for a moment, and then exhaled.

She repeated the process several times before slowly opening her eyes and sweeping a hand through the air in front of her.

A gentle concentration of rain fell on the plants in front of her.

Ororo smiled slightly. Ashamed at abandoning her plants for too long, she looked forward to a day in her greenhouse.

A slight gust of wind blew the rain to another section of flowers.

It was peaceful. No one would dare disturb her here. This was her—

"Hey, you."

She hit the ground and blinked her eyes quickly, surprised by the voice behind her.

Ororo knew who it was without looking. She smiled broadly, and, rising to her feet, spun around. "Kitty-kat!" She threw her arms around the startled girl.

"Wow, haven't heard that one in a while." She returned the embrace.

"I haven't seen you in over a year! I haven't even **talked **to you in a few months." Breaking away, Ororo kept her hands resting on her friend's shoulders, as if to prevent her from leaving. "Goddess, Kitty! What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, attempting nonchalance. "I just missed you guys is all. We thought it'd be a good time to come back, what with the holidays coming up." She sat on a nearby bench. Ororo followed. "Don't go telling Pete this, by I honestly couldn't stand another winter in Russia."

"So it's 'Pete' now, is it? I seem to remember you refusing to call him anything but Peter."

Kitty laughed. "'Ro, I was a kid then." She ceremoniously crossed her arms in front of her chest, feigning. "Things have changed, you know."

"With you and Peter?"

"For the better. This whole 'don't pressure the guy' thing seems to be working out."

Ororo's eyes widened. "So are you two 'you two' again?"

"Let's just say we're working on it." Kitty couldn't help but smile at the fact. "What about you? I hear things between you and Logan are getting a little serious. Jean's mentioned the word 'roomie' on more than one occasion."

"We've talked about it. The professor says he's got a small place nearby, practically on this land." Ororo's smile faded slightly as she looked down to her lap.

Kitty's gaze fell, too, watching Ororo pull at a string on the hem of her shirt. "That'd be nice."

The two sat in awkward silence for what seemed like hours.

Ororo was the first to speak. "Jean called you, didn't she?"

"Yeah. Day before yesterday."

"I see."

"You okay, 'Ro? Seriously, are you alright?"

"Everybody keeps asking me that, as if they think it will help me in some way."

"I don't know if it would help you, but you're my best friend. I want you to talk to me."

Ororo looked up at Kitty, a slightly smile on her face. "Do you know what I keep getting from people around here? Everyone – Remy, Scott, Rogue, even Jean – keeps asking what **I'm** going to do. As if there's something that I **need** to do. It's like they're all trying to turn my life into some soap opera. 'Ororo Munroe must decide between the two loves of her life – the Beast or the Wolverine.' It's ridiculous. That man's come back from the dead. I honestly doubt our relationship is the first thing on his mind. Logan's worried I'll go running back to Hank—"

"Logan? The big bad Wolverine? Worried?" She laughed nervously. "I guess things really do change."

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Logan? Of course…"

"Hank. Have you talked to Hank?"

Ororo let out a small laugh. "No."

"Think maybe you should?"

"Probably, but not now." She stood, extending an arm to Kitty. "I want to hear about

Russia!"

Kitty linked her arm through Ororo's. "You wouldn't believe…"


	7. Chapter 6 Katya

Chapter 8: Katya

Scott sat across from Professor Xavier's desk, leaning forward. "You think they were connected, Professor?"

"I can't be certain. There's simply too little information at the moment. Nevertheless, Henry's descriptions match your own."

Logan stood in the corner leaning against a wall, his arms folded. "What do we do now?"

The Professor glanced up. "We wait."

"What? I ain't gonna sit aroun' here bidin' my time. Look Chuck, you didn't see what me and Cyke saw—"

"Logan, you forget I am a telepath. I have seen everything you have. But there is nothing we can do until Jean scans Henry."

"So what're we waitin' for? He's up, ain't he?"

Scott spun around to face Logan. "Seriously? The man just came back from the dead. Give him some time to—"

"We don't have time," Logan bit back before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

Scott immediately stood up and began to leave the room. "Wolverine!"

"Scott, let him go."

"Professor, he's being unreasonable."

"These have been trying times for all of us, but especially Logan."

" 'Especially Logan?' What's that supposed to mean?"

"Perhaps the recent events in the **mutant **world are not the only disruptions in Logan's life."

* * *

Logan stood over a metal table in the War Room. Files were spread out across the surface, some opened, others closed.

He leaned forward, his hands flat on the table, propping him up. His eyes scanned the papers – subject numbers, case notes, status. _It has ta fit._

Frustrated, he let a small growl escape his lips.

He knew she was there before she spoke.

"That doesn't sound good." Ororo walked up to him, leaning into his side.

"It just doesn't make sense 'Ro."

He stood straight, draping an arm around her shoulders.

"I talked to Kitty. She's asking Peter."

Logan looked at Ororo and frowned. "No. I ain't puttin' Petey through that. I won't let 'im."

She smiled slightly. "Logan, he's a grown man now. Maybe he wants to help. Maybe he's the piece we need to solve this puzzle."

Neither said anything for a while. Finally, Logan sighed, taking a last look at the files sprawled across the table. "You hungry, darlin'?"

* * *

"I do not know, Kitty." He sat on the end of his bed, his elbows on his knees.

She scooted closer to him, placing a hand on his back. "Peter, I know it's hard. I won't even pretend to understand how it feels, but you could help so many people."

"Could I? Do we even know? Perhaps there are no more."

"Peter—"

"I mean it. Perhaps these events are singular."

She leaned forward, trying to meet his eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

"Another question I can not answer, my Katya." He looked up to see tears welling in her eyes. He turned his body to face hers, his hand cupping her cheek. "What is wrong?"

She smiled. "You called me Katya. I haven't heard that in years."

He grazed a thumb across her mouth, wiping away a stray tear, before touching his lips to her own.

"I've missed you," she whispered against his mouth.

* * *

_I suppose it could be worse. Your optimism surprises me. Most men in your position would, well, still be dead. In fact, roughly ninety-nine percent. Possibly higher. But, all things considered, you're doing pretty well. Monitor looks stable. Breathing is regular. Fur returning to its original luster. Talking to yourself—_

A gentle knock interrupted his thoughts. The door opened slightly, enough for Ororo to poke her head into the room. "Can I come in?"

He raised his eyebrows, a little surprised. "Of course."

She walked in, shutting the door softly behind her.

"Wait."

She stopped.

"You won't hit me again, will you?"

She frowned. "Hank, about that. I'm sorry, I—"

He raised a hand to quiet her, a slight smile on his face. "No need. Jean told me you were fairly upset."

Ororo let out a small laugh at the understatement. She came closer, sitting at the foot of his med lab bed. "So."

"So."

The tension grew in the silence.

"I hear Jean's going to scan your mind."

"Yeah, eventually. Her and the Professor say it's still unsafe."

"Oh."

Again, it was quiet.

"They seem to think I'll be able to leave the medical lab soon though. Another day or two, perhaps."

"Well, that's good. It'll be nice to be in your own bed again, I'm sure."

"I never thought it would happen." He reached forward, taking her hand in his own. "I never thought I'd see you again, Ororo."

She looked down at their entwined hands. "Henry, we don't have to talk about this."

"No, I want to." His eyes pleaded.

"I'm not the same person I was five years ago."

"Neither am I. Ororo, I—"

Startled, she looked up to meet his gaze. "You left."

"I know. It was a mistake."

She pulled her hand away. Looking down again, she focused on the grain of her jeans. "You never even said goodbye."

"Ororo, I tried. I didn't know what to say to you. I knew you'd try to keep me here—"

"Is that so terrible? Was the mansion really that bad of a place to be?"

"You know that I didn't leave because of the mansion. Emma Frost and the Professor had two different ideas of what mutants should be doing. I chose Miss Frost."

"So that's it? You just gave up everything we fought for – everything we'd been through – on a gamble? Seems to me you needed to check your loyalties. You abandoned us, Henry. We cared for you, loved you, and you just left us."

Again, he took her hand, holding it tightly, willing her to look at him. She complied. "Ororo, I never stopped loving you."

Her heart pounded. She could feel the knot in her stomach, swallowed down the lump in her throat.

Finally, "I did."

"What?"

"I stopped loving you. I-I've moved on. I have a boyfriend now…"

He turned his head away from her, loosening his grip on her hand.

"How long?"

"Almost a year."

"Who?" He didn't want to know.

"Logan."

He snatched his hand away quickly, as if she were a disease.

"Henry—"

"I don't want to hear this."

"That's not fair Henry."

He jerked his head to face her again. He practically growled. "**Fair**? Are you serious? God, Storm, you really haven't grown up, have you? Still whining--"

Shocked at his sudden viciousness, she jumped to her feet. "**Whining?** Henry McCoy DIED. I saw HIM. I held him in my arms!"

"You know, you're certainly one to talk about **loyalties. **You barely mourned my death!"

She couldn't believe he was saying this. "You don't think I mourned? Half of Westchester County was out of power for three weeks because of lightening storms! Don't you **dare** tell me that I didn't mourn! It felt like **I** was dead, Henry. It was painful and it was hard and it was every single day for four years!"

"Just leave. Get out."

"Gladly," she threw back at him before stomping out of the room. The entire hall shook as she slammed the door behind her.


	8. Chapter 7 Still of the Night

Chapter 9: In the Still of the Night  
_  
**Disclaimer:** They're not mine…Unless Marvel is feeling especially giving this holiday season? Eh? Hm…(Oh, I guess I borrowed "Blow, Gabriel, Blow" and "In the Still of the Night" from Cole Porter…)_

"You're doing the right thing." She squeezed his hand gently before looking up at him. What she saw nearly broke her heart. Peter looked absently at the door to the medlab, a deep sadness in his eyes. They glistened, tears beginning to well.

"I do not know, Katya. This is too much, perhaps too soon." He sniffed, blinking his eyes to dry them out.  
She put her hands on his upper arms, turning him to face her. "Peter, look at me." They locked eyes. "I know this is hard. But you're strong. You can do this."

"This is why I left in the first place. I could not talk to anyone about…what happened."

"You told me."

He brought his hands up, sliding his fingers through her hair. "You are different. I can not bear to keep anything from you."

"Peter…" She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her body into his, nuzzling her head against his chest.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer as he kissed the top of her head. They stood motionless in this embrace until the door to the medlab opened behind them.

"Oh!" Startled, Jeans hand immediately went to her chest. "I was just coming to find you. Ready?"

He pulled away from Kitty, taking her hands in his. "Stay with me."

"Of course."

Jean smiled sympathetically and held the door open for them to pass through.

* * *

Ororo opened the French doors, stepping out onto her balcony. She set the CD player on the ground gently before standing tall again, then stretched her arms high above her head. Letting them fall to her sides, she readjusted her t-shirt. Her eyes fell to the player, frowning. She couldn't believe it. She actually felt guilty – for being happy! _But I deserve this._

She looked out across the landscape. The stars shone above, the first sign of winter. _They're always brightest in the winter._ Ororo remembered Logan telling her that a few months ago. She had been surprised at his knowledge. Her eyes closed as she breathed in deeply. The air was crisp. Another sign. _Almost February. Almost a year._ She opened her eyes and smiled, the thought making her giddy. Immediately, she bent to the CD player, hitting play.

The fanfare of trumpets broke the silence of the night. Ororo sang along, dancing unabashedly. Looking up to her right, "Do you hear that playing?" Down to her left, "Yes we hear that playing?" Up again to the right, "Do you know who's playing?" To the left again, "No, who's that playing?" Finally, she faced forward, punching the air to the beat. "Well it's Gabriel Gabriel playing! Gabriel Gabriel saying 'Will you be ready to go when I blow my hoooooooooorn?'"

* * *

_"Once I was headed for Hell…"_

He stopped dead in his tracks, his foot just hitting the middle step. _What? _

"But when I got to Satan's door…"

"Hmph." He climbed the rest of the way to the room he shared with Ororo, taking the steps two at a time.

"…Yes to fly higher and higher and higher!"

Logan stifled back a laugh as he watched Ororo rise off the ground, her actions mimicking the lyrics. He walked softly to the French doors and quietly leaned against the frame. He shoved his hands down his front pockets, a grin on his face as he watched her return to the ground, her back to him.

"So blow, Gabriel, blow! Blow, Gabriel, blow!" She danced around in dizzying circles, the wind whipping her hair across her face. "Blow, Gabriel, bloooooooo—" She screamed at the sight of him, nearly falling backwards off of the balcony.

"Lookin' good, darlin'"

She desperately tried to regain her composure, one hand clinging to the rail and the other clutching her shirt at the chest. Gasping for breath, her eyes widened. "Logan…Goddess…Don't…do that."

"Do what?" His lips curled in a mocking grin as he moved closer to her.

Narrowing her eyes, she put her hands up as if to ward him off. "Oh, no you don't. Stay away from me."

"Dunno if I can."

Ororo saw the subtle flicker in his eyes as he feigned menace. She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "You better."

Taking another step, "That a threat?"

Before she could respond, he jumped forward. She spun around quickly to run, forgetting the railing behind her.

Logan grabbed her from behind, his strong arms wrapping around her waist. She giggled uncontrollably, kicking and punching the air, as he lifted her off the ground and moved backwards. Her squirming knocked him off balance, causing him to fall onto the bench behind them, taking Ororo down with him.

Despite the wind being knocked out of them, the two continued laughing until their sides ached. Their laughter subsiding, Ororo slid off of Logan, lying next to him on the bench. He kept one arm around her to hold her tight, his opposite hand taking hold of her own. They each fixed their gaze on the entwined hands, one smooth and slender, the other large and rough. She smiled at the sound of his racing heart, his chest rising and falling beneath her head.

After some time, Ororo broke the silence. "Where've you been? I haven't seen you since lunch."

"Took the bike out for a ride. Just needed to get away for a while."

She frowned at that and lifted her face to look at him. "Get away? What's wrong?"

He let out a small, uncomfortable laugh. "You know me, darlin'"

"Logan. I'm serious."

"Jean said ya talked ta Hank."

She turned her hand away from him, returning her focus to their mingled hands. She said nothing.

"She told me what he said to ya."

"I see."

"Just pissed me off, I guess."

"That's why you ran off? You were angry?"

He pulled her closer to his body. "I don't like anyone hurtin' ya, 'Ro. I care for ya too much.

Carrying his hand with her, she draped her arm across his torso. She closed her eyes, inhaling slowly, the smell of smoke and wood filling her nose.

He kissed the top of her head, lingering just long enough to breath in her own scent – jasmine and vanilla.

Ororo lay motionless until Logan thought her asleep. The CD player began another track. With the first notes, Ororo stirred. "Mmm, I love this song."

Logan carefully slid out of her embrace and stood in front of her, his hand outstretched.

Ororo sat up, looking at him questioningly. "Yes?"

"Dance with me." His eyes flashed nervously. He suddenly looked so young, almost like a child.

"What?"

"I said…dance with me."

His expression softened as she stood up and easily moved into his embrace. His left hand moved around her waist and rested firmly on her lower back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck before allowing her left hand to slide down his arm and take hold of his right hand.

_In the still of the night  
As I gaze from my window  
At the moon it its flight  
My thoughts all stray to you._

Their feet moved slowly, Ororo following Logan's surprisingly graceful lead.

_In the still of the night  
While the world is in slumber  
All the times without number  
Darling when I say to you_

He brought her hand up around his neck, bringing his own to her back. He pulled tight, as if molding their bodies together. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head against him, her muffled singing barely audible.

_Do you love me  
As I love you  
Are you my life to be  
My dream come true?_

He closed his eyes, buried his face in her hair, willing this moment to last forever. "I love ya so much, 'Ro."

She sighed contentedly, "I love you, too, Logan."

_Or will this dream of mine  
Fade out of sight  
Like the moon growing dim  
On the rim of the hill  
In the chill still of the night?

* * *

_

The front door of the mansion swung open, slamming against the wall. A few younger kids in the hallway remained motionless, stunned. They jumped slightly when two duffel bags hit the ground at his feet.

"'ave no fear, eve'yone. Da Gambit has returned!" The grin on his face faded quickly as he realized that he his only audience was a small group of twelve year old girls. They giggled at the stranger whose arms were still raised above his head.

"Well, Ah'll be damned. Look a' what the swamp dragged in." Rogue leaned against the frame of a nearby doorway, her arms folded across her chest.

He dropped one arm to his side, clutching his heart with the other, a look of defeat on his face. "_Mon dieu_, is dat an angel I see?"

Rogue smiled. She pushed herself off the wall and sauntered down the hallway, crossing in front of Remy. "Cool it, heartbreaker," She called behind her. "Ain't been back five minutes and y'already drivin' me nuts."

His lip curled up, forming a crooked grin. Leaving his bags, he followed after her. "Who ya callin' heartbreaker, _chere_?" He took one of her gloved hands, spinning her around to face him. His red on black eyes met her green ones for a second before he pressed his lips against hers.

Reacting quickly, she pushed him away. "The bog turnin' ya crazy, Remy? Ah coulda killed ya!"

With a cocky smirk, he replied, "What can I say? Remy loves to live on da edge."

She stared at him, desperately hoping her face conveyed the anger she wish she felt. Finally, she gave up, and turned on her heels, continuing her walk down the hall. "The professor's in his office. Ah'm sure he'd wanna see ya." To ensure the last word, she threw in, "Bayou bait."

His lopsided grin returned. "River rat."

She spun around angrily, only to watch the ends of his coat disappear around the corner.


	9. Chapter 8 Madame Sosthene

Chapter 10: Madame Sosthene

"Pickin' on 'er ain't never gon' get old," Remy thought smugly to himself. Brushing aside his coat, he shoved both hands in the front pockets of his torn jeans. His footsteps echoed noisily off the floor as he sang quietly to himself. "_Madam Sosthene, mais donnex moi bot' chere 'tite fille, cette le J'ai aime depuis l'age de quatorze ans. Si vous veux pas—" _

He stopped suddenly, a look of fear across his face. He looked nervously up and down the hall as his hands padded the side of his coat. "_Non…_Can't be…" Beginning to panic, he quickly hit a hand against his back pocket. He immediately exhaled a sigh of relief. Reaching in, he pulled out his trusty deck of cards and replaced them in the inside breast pocket of his coat.

He shrugged, the grin returning to his face as he continued down the hall toward the Professor's office. "_Si vous veux pas m' la donner j'vous fais serment j'va' la voler j'va la passer par la fenetre et la mener a la maison. Oh, Madam Sosthene—_hmph!_"_

Remy's body slammed against the wall, knocking the wind out of him. He yelled after the blue form stomping away from him. "'ey! Remy's walkin' here, homme!" He regained his composure but stopped mid-step before he could get far. _'enry? _He turned around, watching Hank angrily turn the corner with obvious difficulty. "Beast?"

"Henry! You can't!" Jeans voice rang out from a connecting hallway.

Remy turned his head in time to see her come up beside him. "Hi, Remy." She didn't stop.

Standing with a look of confusion on his face, he muttered a response. "'ey, Jean."

He shook his head, finally reacting to the situation. "'ey!" He grabbed Jean's arm before she could get away. "Jean! What's he doin' here!"

She responded in obvious frustration, "He lives here, Remy!"

She tried to walk on. He pulled her back. "Not as of late, he don'!"

Jean frantically looked for him at the end of the hall. "I have to go after him. He should be in bed."

"De man should be in de grave, _chere_."

Shocked, Jean flashed her green eyes up at him. She looked again at the end of the hall, realizing he was long gone by now. Once more, her gaze shifted to Remy's hand still holding her arm tightly. She frowned.

"Sorry, _belle_." He let go.

"It's okay." The two stood there in silence for a few moments.

"Jean?"

"Remy?" It clicked. "Remy! You're back!" She threw her arms around his neck.

He hugged her back, chuckling quietly. "'Least one lady be 'appy ta see me."

Jean pulled back, grinning up at him knowingly. "What? Rogue giving you a hard time already?"

Remy frowned. "She's a spitfire, dat girl." His trademark grin reappeared. "Nothin' Remy can't handle."

"I'm sure. You should—"

"—talk to de professor. I been told. Think I'm 'bout due fo' some answers right now."

"What's to answer? Henry…well…got better."

"Got better! _Chere_, de man was dead an' now he's marchin' aroun' like eve'ything's no'mal. Now, Remy admit he ain't seen eve'ything, but how is dat poss'ble?"

Jean simple shrugged. "We're X-Men. It's what we do I guess."

He considered her words for a moment before nodding slowly. "Think I can accept dat."

Putting a hand on his arm, Jean smiled warmly. "Go talk to the Professor."

* * *

Once again, Logan stood over the table in the War Room, pictures and files scattered everywhere. _It's been over a week._

A week and no further information. Logan ran through the list of obvious possibilities in his head. Weapon X? It couldn't be. S.H.I.E.L.D.? _They wouldn't go this far._

"How long have you been in here?" From the door, Scott's voice caused Logan to jump a little. Scott grinned slightly. "Must be in pretty deep. You're not exactly easy to startle."

His hands holding his weight against the table, Logan simply looked down at a file in front of him. "Any information yet?"

Scott stood next to him and picked up a neighboring folder. "That's why I came here."

Suddenly interested, Logan stood straight. "What? Whadya know?"

"Peter. He and Kitty talked to Jean earlier."

"What's Kitty got to do with anything?"

"If it weren't for her, Peter wouldn't be here. He'd be off in Russia alone. He confides in her. Trusts her. She got him to tell Jean everything."

Growing impatient, "Like what?"

"Like Colonel Jacob Nast. He's in charge of the whole operation." Scott dropped a picture of the man onto the table in front of Logan. "The Professor looked him up. We've got a list of people and agencies he worked under, too." He set down another piece of paper.

Logan scanned the list quickly, but one name stood out among the rest. "Wraith."

"Exactly."

A growl escaped Logan's mouth. "I thought we cleaned 'em out!"

"We did—" Scott jumped slightly, startled by Logan's fists pounding hard on the metal table. "Hey, hey! Logan! It's not Weapon X. It's just a connection."

"If this son of a bitch worked under Wraith, you can bet his scent'll be all over it. So's this connected to Hank?"

"We don't know yet. His memory's still shaky. Jean scanned him this morning, but it drains her. She'll try again tomorrow." He watched as Logan's head fell again, dejection overwhelming his features. "Hey, we'll figure this one out. I promise."

Logan merely grunted as Scott left the room.

It was nearly half an hour before Logan's concentration was broken again. His ears perked, straining to hear what his nose smelled. He knew who it was before the man spoke.

"You certainly do move fast, don't you?"

Without turning around, Logan responded, "Why ain't ya in the medlab?"

"Hardly something you should concern yourself with, _my friend._"

"Whatdya want?"

"Stay away from her."

This caught Logan's attention. He spun around, a mere two feet between him and Hank. "Hey. She ain't your business anymore."

Hank moved forward. "On the contraire, Wolverine. She's my only business right now. She's my girlfriend, if you remember."

Was Hank honestly trying to threaten him? Logan took a step, his face inches from Hank's. "_Was_ your girlfriend."

In a flash, Hank was in the air, his feet pummeling into Logan's chest. Logan hit the wall behind him before falling to the ground. Without hesitation, he leapt to his feet and, with a flick of his wrists, extended six claws. He stood in battle position, anger causing his veins to pop and his face to flush. "Bad move, Beast."

Firmly planted on the ground, Hank remained on his side of the War Room. "Look at you. The Wolverine. Claws popped and ready to do damage. Do you really think you deserve her?"

"It's been done, bub. Pick a new topic to harass me on."

"No, but this time it's different. Before you were simply crass, perhaps a little outspoken, and maybe possessed some small violent tendencies. But after what you did to Cyclops? Leaving him to die? No, Wolverine. You're not just an animal. You're a murderer."

"I don't wanna hurt you Beast." Hank mistakenly lunged across the room. Logan crouched low at the last minute, allowing Hank to mimic his own run in with the wall; but before he could rise to his feet, Logan pounced on him, his claws inches from Hank's throat. "That don't mean I won't."

"Hey!" The two men both looked to the door in surprise. They had each been too preoccupied to notice the woman enter the room.

"What in sam hill ya think ya'll are doin'? Git up ya bums!"

"This ain't your problem, Rogue."

"We can handle this."

Rogue snorted and rolled her eyes. "Obviously. Look, Ah honestly couldn't care less what the two o' you git into on yer own time, but there's a weather witch upstairs who's hurtin' real bad."

Logan snapped his head around to look at Rogue. "Why? What happened?"

Rogue held her hands up in front of her. "Hey, I ain't one ta pry." She caught a look at Hank before saying to Logan, "Now, sugah, why don't you go console your girl and let me handle this one."

Retracting his claws, Logan pushed himself up off of Hank who, in turn, stood next to him. Logan grabbed his leather jacket off the table and stormed out of the room, leaving Hank alone with a very irritated Rogue.

"Rogue, what's wrong? What's—"

"Aw, shut it, blue."

"Excuse me?"

Her eyes flashed, infuriated with the whole situation. "Ah know you been through a lot. Ah ain't even gonna pretend to undastand what it's like. But ya can't come waltzin' back in like nothin's changed. She moved on, a'right? Ya'll are jus' gonna have ta deal."

"Yes, she moved on to a murderer. Or have you forgotten?"

"Ah don't wanna hear it. Yer jus' jealous 'cause he got what you want."

"I don't simply _want_ her, Rogue. I love—"

"An' if you loved her half as much as ya say ya do, ya'd let her go." Rogue spun on her heels, thinking to herself how happy she was to have won at least _one_ argument that day.

* * *

Remy mounted the steps to the attic room and knocked softly at the door. When no one responded, he pushed the door open, looked around suspiciously, then walked in anyway.

A pile of men's clothes sat in the corner by the dresser with various other articles of clothing strewn about the room. Namely, Logan's jean jacket draped over a nearby chair. _Why am I not surprised?_ Remy thought with a lopsided grin.

Thunder crashed above, nearly shaking the whole room. Even Remy was a little stunned by its intensity. _Dat one's a little too close fo' me._ He looked up toward the balcony, noticing a slight movement in the darkness. The French doors opened with a subtle gust of wind, allowing Ororo to enter her room.

Still standing by the door, leaning on his bowstaff, Ororo was none the wiser to his presence.

Until he spoke. "Dis all your fault, _ma belle_?"

_**Gambit's li'l song:** Oh Madam Sosthene, give me your dear little daughter, the one I've loved since the age of fourteen. If you don't let me have her, I promise you that I'll steal her. I'll pass her through the window and take her home._


	10. Chapter 9 Immediately

Chapter 9: Immediately

Ororo glided into the room and slowly lowered herself to the ground. The wind whipped around her body, causing her dress and hair to swirl wildly. It all stopped when she suddenly slammed the doors shut behind her. "Leave me."

Remy couldn't help but jump a little. His grin was quick to return to his face as he sauntered across the room. "Now _chere…_what makes you think I could do eva do somthin' like dat?" He reached out to take her hand.

She snapped it away. "Don't touch me. Not now." She could still feel the remnants of electricity coursing through her body, anxious to ground itself to the floor.

He frowned, but knew better than to question her further.

Ororo looked up at him, deciding whether to cry in frustration or throw her arms around her friend. Opting out of either, she pushed past him and began to unlace her shoe. "When did you get back?"

"Few hours ago."

"Hm," was her only response. She removed one black boot and turned her attention to the other. "Did you have a good time?"

Remy sat down on the chair beside her bed. "You know Remy, _chere_. Love to rustle de feathers ev'y now and den."

She slipped her foot out of the second boot, tossing it to the ground as she stood up. "So was there something you wanted?"

"Remy 'ave to want somethin' to see 'is Stormy?"

"I'm kind of busy, Gambit," she replied, pulling her sweatshirt over her head and dropping it on the floor.

He glanced through the window as the rain lightened. "Dat's pretty obvious."

Ororo followed his gaze. "I was in a bad mood, is all. I'm fine now."

Remy shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, letting his head droop as he considered Ororo's last comment. "You mean dat, _petite_?"

Her eyes darted in his direction, but she said nothing.

He looked up, their eyes meeting. "'Roro?"

Shaking her head quickly, she responded bitterly. "What do you care?"

Remy was stricken, his face contorted in obvious hurt. "'ey now…"

"No, I mean it. This happened three weeks ago. Where were you then?"

"Remy 'ad no idea—"

"Of course not. Convenient."

"I wasn't even 'ere!"

"Exactly!" She moved closer to him, pointing a finger in his face. She responded, emphasizing each word, "You weren't **here**, Remy! You **weren't** here!"

He stood still, looking down at her hand inches from his face. It was shaking.

Ororo dropped her hand and turned around, mumbling, "It's becoming a pattern around here." She grabbed her discarded sweatshirt off of her floor and walked to her dresser.

Remy watched her open a drawer and stand motionless in front of it. "Stormy?" He heard her quiet sniffle and immediately crossed the room to stand by her side. "'ey, Stormy…" He put a hand on her back and she immediately fell into his embrace, her arms folded between their bodies.

She sobbed into his chest, her body trembling. "Oh, Remy. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It wasn't—"

He held her tightly, one hand rubbing her back gently. "Shhh." He pulled her over to the bed and sat down, still holding her tightly. "Talk to me, _petite_. Remy ain't goin' nowhere."

Logan pounded up the stairs to the loft he shared with Ororo. He knew he never should have popped his claws on Hank. That's the first thing they taught you at this school: never use your powers against a teammate.

Well, damn it, Hank was hardly a teammate anymore. Like 'Ro said, he left. He doesn't matter.

He shouldn't matter. Logan couldn't help but wonder why he cared so much. He knew Ororo loved him. In the end, it was her bed he crawled into at night, it was his name she spoke in the morning, and it was his arms that held her when—

Logan's ears perked as he reached the top of the stairs. Muffled voices escaped under the door. Logan gently pushed the door open just wide enough to see Ororo – **his** Ororo – clinging tightly to Remy.

His breath caught in his chest at the sight, but before he could respond in any way, he felt a slight tingle in his head.

_Wolverine. Come to my office, please._

_This ain't a good time, Chuck._

_Immediately._

Logan blinked a few times to clear his head. He stole one last glance at the two sitting on Ororo's bed before sighing and retreating down the stairs.

The door slammed behind him as he entered the room, causing Jean, Rogue, and even Scott to jump.

The professor's eyes merely widened. "Ah, yes. Logan. Have a seat."

Logan glanced just over the professor's shoulder and saw Hank sitting on the window ledge. He stifled a growl, remaining motionless in the middle of the room. "I'm fine here. So what's goin' on Chuck?"

"Well, thanks to some very sloppy cover-ups, I believe we've found your man."

Logan moved closer to the desk. "Nast? Where?"

Scott leaned forward and slid a surveillance photo on the desk in front of Logan. "His main base is some farming community in the Midwest."

"Main? Whatdya mean?" Logan could feel his veins pulsing with anger. "How many o' these hell-holes he got set up?"

Ororo closed the door softly behind her and Remy. She looked at Logan, face flush and veins popping. Charles definitely had bad news.

Remy obviously hadn't noticed. He slapped a hand on Logan's back and grinned foolishly. "'ey, long time no see, mon ami."

After stealing a glance at Ororo hiding by the door, he violently shrugged Remy's hand off. "Git offa me, Gambit."

"Ah, Remy LeBeau. I'll have to meet with you later. As for your question, Logan, there are three – California, Upstate New York, and Indiana. California has been completely abandoned, but we are still concerned about the satellite compound up North and the main base. Jean will take Rogue, Nightcrawler, and Iceman to Buffalo. Cyclops, you will lead a team to Indiana comprised of Wolverine, Storm, Gambit, Shadowcat, and Colossus."

Peter shifted uncomfortably in the corner. He pulled his hands out of his pockets and cross his arms over his chest.

Kitty looked up at him and instinctively brought her hand to his back. She whispered, "You okay?"

He glanced at her quickly before turning back to the Professor. "I am not sure, Professor."

"Colossus?"

"I think, perhaps, I have done all I can."

"Let me go." All eyes turned to Hank, sitting just behind the Professor.

Jean and Logan were the first to reply. "No!" they exclaimed simultaneously. Jean frowned at Logan before standing and turning to the Professor. "He can't, Charles. He's too weak. He's unstable."

"He's right here. And he's going. Jean, I understand your concerns, but I'm okay, really."

Jeans eyes pleaded with Hank to change his mind. He continued, "You need someone in there who has seen these guys, who's been in these places."

Resigned, Jean sat backed down.

After several moments of silence, Xavier responded, "All right, then. It's settled. Beast, you will replace Colossus in Cyclops's group."

Ororo spoke up. "When do we leave?"

"Immediately."

Logan delivered a cold glare to Ororo before uncrossing his arms, pushing himself off the wall, and leaving the office.

A shiver ran down her back. She furrowed her brows in confusion, obviously hurt by his look, as well as his abrupt exit.

She glanced around the room, noticing that everyone's confused eyes were focused on her. She started to speak, to try and explain what she herself didn't understand, but quickly gave up. Instead, Ororo turned and followed down Logan's path.

It didn't take long for her to catch up with him at the elevator. She slammed her hand between the doors to keep them from closing any further. As soon as they jerked open she stepped inside.

"What was that about?"

Logan punched his thumb into the button reading SB – sub-basement. He stood by the door as the elevator hummed into motion. "What're ya talkin' about?"

Ororo responded to his warped reflection on the doors. "Don't do that. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I don't wanna git into it with ya. Not now."

"Logan—"

The bell dinged and the doors opened. "We gotta mission, Storm." With that, he pounded down the hall toward the men's locker room to change into his uniform.

Ororo stood in the hallway for a few minutes before sighing and walking the opposite direction toward the women's locker room.

"You do not have to go, you know."

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you –"

"Peter, look. It's my job. This is what being an X-Man's all about. If you don't wanna rejoin, that's okay, really, but this is something I have to do. It's my decision."

They stood just outside the door to the hanger, Peter leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. Dismally, he looked down at Kitty. Somewhere between Xavier's and Russia, she had grown up. She wasn't the same fourteen year old girl. He loved her years ago, he knew that. But this was different. His heart didn't skip beats, he didn't break into cold sweats, he didn't get nervous and jittery around her. His heart thundered painfully in his chest. He was scared to be without her. He let out a deep sigh. "Yes, I know."

Kitty smiled before wrapping her arms around Peter. Leaning into his chest, she promised, "We'll find out who did this."

He wrapped one arm around her waist and brought the other to the back of her head, pressing her closer to him. Closing his eyes, he whispered, "It is not them I'm worried about, my Katya."


	11. Chapter 10 Can't Stop What's Coming

Chapter 10: Can't Stop What's Coming

_**Disclaimer:** I've been denying it long enough, so now I say to you that yes, I do in fact OWN the X-Men._

Shadowcat stood outside the Blackbird and looked to the sky, one hand resting on her hip, the other above her eyes to shield the sun. Her eyes traced along the horizon, noting its concentrated lack of…well…anything. Even without Wolverine's nose, she could smell the end of the harvest. _So this is what November in farm country is like. _It was a far cry even from Chicago or New York.

She felt the rest of the team come up behind her, Wolverine moving on ahead. Without turning around, she declared, "Welcome to 'da Ville."

Gambit cocked an eyebrow at her back. "'Da Ville?'"

Shadowcat turned and smiled. "Noblesville. You like it? I just came up with it. Not really sure if –"

"Come on, team. We've got a mission." Cyclops cut her off while moving to the forefront.

Gambit and Shadowcat rolled their eyes before falling in line behind Cyclops.

By now, Wolverine was far ahead of the rest of the group. His head moved from left to right, eyes squinted, nose picking up a myriad of scents.

Storm followed closely behind Gambit and Shadowcat with Beast silently bringing up the rear. Storm looked all around her, gathering a sense of her surroundings. She spotted what looked like a school across the street to her left. "Who would build a high school across the street from a prison?"

"It's abandoned," was Cyclops only reply.

"Well, yeah, but…Honestly."

"Maybe it helps with the transition." Shadowcat grinned at her own response.

"'ey now—"

"Guys. Seriously. Mission?"

"Sorry, _homme_. Jus' tryin' ta make light o' the situation…" Gambit grinned and elaborately held out both his hands.

All but Wolverine froze.

Beast popped his head up at Gambit's remark. "'Make light of the situation?' You've got to be kidding me."

"Oh…look, Beast. Gambit didn't –"

Beast pushed past him, catching up to Cyclops. "Right. Okay."

Shadowcat frowned at Gambit before smacking the back of his head. "You had to open your big mouth, didn't you?"

Storm held her hand up to quiet them. "Hey."

They all looked in time to see Wolverine coming toward them. "Ya guys just gonna stand there all day?"

Cyclops's eyes narrowed behind his visor. "Find anything?"

"Yeah. Took a little walk around the prison. Looked in a few windows. I'd say no more'n five guards at the door."

The smoldering lock fell from the door as soon as the red beam vanished. Cyclops's hand fell from his visor.

Shadowcat crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. Under her breath, she mumbled, "Could've just phased through the damn door. 'Too dangerous' he says. 'You could get caught' he says." Louder this time, "Way to be inconspicuous Cyclops!"

The leader ignored Shadowcat's comments, waving a hand in the air as if to send a silent signal.

Wolverine, Gambit, and Shadowcat stood with their backs pressed against the wall next to the entrance. Beast, Storm, and Cyclops mimicked their positions on the opposite side of the doorway.

Wolverine could smell the guards before they pounded the door, causing it to crash between the two groups.

Just as the first gun appeared outside, Storm broke away from the wall. She focused all of her attention on the five guards standing in surprise in the doorway. Before they could react, her right fist opened and her palm rose quickly in the air. As if tied to a string, the guards all slammed into the underside of the awning. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the men flying into the open.

All five bodies landed with a thud. None moved, the force of the blow knocking them out.

Gambit's eyes widened and his lips curled in approval. "'Dat was easy 'nough."

Storm replied with a quick "Says you" before falling in line behind Cyclops.

The smell of it nearly bowled Wolverine over. If suffering could be reduced to a scent, this would be it. Rancid. Musty. Raw. He knew this scent well.

Unfortunately, so did Beast. _Too soon. It's too soon. Why'd I come back? It's too soon._

"...ake it?"

Beast shook his head to clear his thoughts. Gambit was looking him straight in the eyes. "What?"

"I said 'you gon' make it, _homme_?'"

"I don't really have much of a choice."

Gambit gave Beast a swift pat on the back before responding dryly, "'dat's de spirit, Blue."

In the front of the line, Cyclops looked to Storm on his right. "It's too quiet. Why would they let us get this far?"

"Scott, we did just take out five of their men…"

Wolverine came up on Cyclops's left. "There'll be plenty more. We gotta split up."

"Fine. Shadowcat, you go with Wolverine. Storm, you and Beast go right. Gambit and I'll go straight ahead. Keep your watches on. We need to remain in contact at all times. And Wolverine? Try to keep at least one alive. I expect answers from these guys."

"I ain't makin' ya any promises, one-eye."

"Wolverine…"

"Yeah, yeah. C'mon kid."

Shadowcat's voice could be heard echoing off the halls as she caught up to Wolverine. "I'm twenty-one, Wolverine. I hardly think…" Her voice trailed off when the pair turned another corner.

* * *

Cyclops walked slowly, knees bent slightly in battle position. His hand remained ever at his visor. Without speaking, every few moments he raised a hand to tell his partner which direction they would go next.

Gambit raised an eyebrow at what he deemed absurdity. In each hand he held a card which he passed gracefully through his fingers and back. _De man acts like Buzz Lightyear. _Gambit chuckled to himself about his lame comparison.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing down this hall way. Or the one before that. Or before that.

"How long we gon' keep 'dis up, Cyke? Le's face it, dere's nothin' here."

Cyclops stopped and stood straight. Letting out a sigh, he dropped his arms to his side. "It doesn't add up Gambit. I spent hours looking at maps. I know this prison like the back of my hand."

"Maybe dey got wise and cleared—"

A sharp whistle interrupted Gambit's comment, followed by a bullet ricocheting off of a nearby wall. The two men hit the ground just in time to avoid being hit.

His face flush with the ground, Gambit mumbled "Me'be not" before pushing himself up off the ground.

Cyclops did the same and the two men stood side by side – Cyclops back in battle position and Gambit reaching for his bo-staff.

* * *

The silence was deadening. Neither of the two had said anything in the twenty minutes since the group disbanded.

_This is sick. Why am I doing this?_ Beast found it increasingly difficult to accept the real reason for his wanting to come on this mission: he needed to be near her again. In the years since his supposed death, he had forgotten how it felt to follow behind her, to work beside her.

He watched her now, noticed her shivering slightly. He'd even missed her claustrophobia. _Stop it. You're on a mission. Get with it. _"I'm sorry."

"What?"

Beast looked up, shocked to see Storm staring right at him. "What?"

She strained to whisper louder. "What did you say?"

He shifted uncomfortably, looking everywhere but at her. Finally, he forced himself to make eye contact. "I said I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything. For hurting you."

Storm took an exasperated look down the hallway. She turned to walk away. "This really isn't the best time for—"

Beast grabbed her arm and turned her around, but gently. "No. I have to say this. Look, I had no right. I know. It's just that…I love you so much…"

Her heart softened at his declaration.

"…I'm sorry for what I said to Wolverine and to you in the Medlab. I never—"

The softness faded. "You what?"

"I said I'm sor—"

"No. What did you say to Logan? What did you tell him?"

Beast let go of her arm and looked to the broken-tile floor. "Oh…nothing really he hasn't—"

Without thinking, Storm grabbed Beast by the shoulders and pushed him into the nearby wall. "What. Did you say. To Logan?"

He breathed out heavily. "I called him a murderer."

A clap of thunder echoed off the prison walls. With a look of disgust, Storm backed away from him and continued down the hall.

"Storm, wait! Ororo—"

The use of her given name caused her to spin around. "Don't you **ever** call me that name. Ever. As far as I'm concerned, you're a teammate and that's it. You're not my boyfriend. You're not even my friend. The only time you are ever to speak to me again is on a mission. And then, you will call me Storm."

With a flash of lightning, she was once again walking away from a disgruntled Beast.

* * *

"Kid, what's goin' on!"

Wolverine pounded his fists against the door, his efforts doing nothing to get it opened. He heard another thud, this one louder than the last, and a high pitched screech.

"Shadowcat!" He backed up before slamming the weight of his body against the door again. Nothing.

He straightened himself and took another step back when he stopped suddenly. He heard a loud crack and then silence. He stood there, unable to move, as an unknown fear rippled through him.

Then, before his feral rage kicked in, the door swung open from the inside. Shadowcat used the back of her hand to wipe her sweat-drenched bangs out of her eyes. "You could've just waited you know. I told you I'd get the door opened."

Wolverine could feel every muscle in his body relax. "What happened? You okay, kid?"

Shadowcat rolled her eyes at the term 'kid,' but stepped aside for Wolverine to pass through the door. "See for yourself."

He walked in, stepping over one body at the threshold. He turned his head and cocked an eyebrow at his teammate.

She just shrugged. "I told you. I'm not a kid anymore."

"I'll say," was his only reply as his eyes fell on two more armed soldiers lying lifeless on the floor. He couldn't help but grin just a little. "And one-eye was worried about me."

Shadowcat cat responded dryly, "Speaking of our fearless leader, we've got a mission."

"Bossy."

* * *

"Drop 'em! Drop the weapon's NOW!"

Holding his bostaff readily in front of him, Gambit kept his eyes focused in front of him. "So, Remy figure he take de two on de left. You good fo' d'other three?"

"Done," was Cyclops' only reply before unleashing an energy beam up toward the ceiling and a flickering light. The fixture crashed to the ground, taking a soldier with it.

The remaining soldiers immediately opened fire. With bullets whipping by him, Gambit jumped forward, using his bostaff as an anchor while he spun his legs around, knocking another soldier against the wall behind him.

Another bullet whisked past, this time punching a small hole through Gambit's coat. Horrified, he held the corner up and poked a gloved finger through the singed hole. "'ey now! Why'd y'have to go and do that fo'?"

The second soldier took this moment to lunge at Gambit, attempting to crack his gun over his head. Gambit responded quickly, taking the soldier by the arm and flipping him to the ground. Grasping at his collar, he picked the soldier up off the ground. "It too much ta ask dat y'guys watch de coat?" Gambit asked before flinging his victim toward the wall next to his partner.

Just as he landed, Cyclops sent the other two flying in the same direction. Gambit threw a charged card up in the air. The explosion caused part of the ceiling to cave in, blocking the soldiers from escaping.

"Easy 'nuff."

"Come on. We've got—"

"I know, I know. A mission."

* * *

Storm stood at the end of a long tunnel, staring at the wall in front of her. Her eyes followed the ladder to the second level – an even narrower passageway that hopefully led to a bigger room. Resisting the urge to wrap her arms tightly around herself, she took several deep breaths to control her fear.

"Are you okay? We could find—"

"I'm fine, Beast," she spat out before trying to generate enough wind to lift her up. No such luck. Frustrated, she let out a disgusted grunt before wrapping her hands around one of the ladder rungs. She hoisted herself up and began the arduous climb.

Beast's ears perked. He heard the click of the trigger before the whistle of the bullet slicing through the air. He tried to warn her – called her name – but he was too late.

Storm let out a deafening scream muted only by the sharp clap of thunder.

* * *

Shadowcat and Wolverine jolted to attention at the resounding crack.

"It sounds like somebody's pissed off." Shadowcat added to herself, _that's my girl._

Wolverine couldn't move. He closed his eyes, urging his stomach not to revolt against him. He'd never known a sharper pain than what he felt at that moment. "She's hurt."

Shadowcat snapped her head back to look at him. "What? How can you tell?"

He opened his eyes. "I just know."

It was like hitting a brick wall. Until then, it had all seemed routine to her. She was an X-Man. This was her job. But then there was Colossus, Beast, and now, maybe, Storm. Suddenly, it had become too real. It hit too close to home. Shaking, she brought her wrist up toward her face. All joking aside, her voice became thick with the gravity of the situation. "Shadowcat to Storm. What was that?"

Nothing.

"Shadowcat to Storm. Can you hear me?"

Again, silence.

"Storm!"

"Shadowcat, it's me. Beast."

Wolverine growled into his own watch. "What happened to her?"

"We're being attacked. They shot her."

The pain in his stomach growing stronger, Wolverine forced himself to respond "We're on our way."

Cyclops' voice interrupted the line. "No. We've got it handled here, Wolverine. We need you to keep looking for victims."

* * *

Cyclops knew Wolverine wouldn't like being kept away, but he also knew that a berserker Wolverine was no help at all.

While Beast and Gambit disposed of the attacking soldiers, Cyclops unzipped his uniform and ripped off a shred of his undershirt. He tied it tightly around Storm's upper arm in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

Storm winced in pain as she sat up, a wave of nausea threatening to overcome her. "I'm fine, Cyclops. Really."

"I know you **will **be. But for now, leave the hand-to-hand fighting to the rest of us." Cyclops stood and helped Storm to her feet. "Stay back. You're more useful to the team as rescuer, not combatant."

Beast and Gambit rejoined them, Gambit sauntering up as if no fighting had been done. "How's my Stormy?"

"I'm fine, Gambit. It just hurt a little, is all."

"Y'hear dat, mon ami?" Gambit spoke into his watch. "She gon' be jus' fine."

* * *

Wolverine didn't respond to Gambit. "Let's finish this," he said to Shadowcat, who had already ventured into the next room.

"Um…I think it **is **finished, Wolverine."

* * *

"Y'had us worried dere 'fo a li'l bit, padnat. Thought we mighta lost ya."

"Hmph. Pity," Storm responded quietly before pushing past the rest of the group and restarting her climb to the top.

The others remained silent, falling in line behind their – apparently – new leader.

By the time she reached the second level, Storm could barely contain the urge to scream. Her calm demeanor, however, betrayed none of her fear and exhaustion. She brought her right hand up to lightly touch her throbbing left arm.

She didn't wait for the others to catch up before entering a large room adjacent to the landing. However, her relief at finding an expansive room was short lived – the room was anything but empty.

The others came up behind her and stood motionless. Cells lined the perimeter of the room. Behind every set of steel bars, cots carried obvious mutants, each connected to a flat-lining monitor. Two eerily green fixtures were the only sources of light in the large room. An undetectable breeze seemed to blow through, rattling the screeching lights.

"Mon Dieu…" was all Gambit could say. No one else could have to put it better.

Beast stumbled backwards into a wall, teetering on the brink of consciousness. Memories flooded his mind – memories from before and during his captivity. He remembered the bar where he met Jean and the smell of fresh paint on his first day at the mansion.

He remembered roll call. When she admitted her code name – Storm – he couldn't help but think how appropriate the name was. Not because it described her powers, but because it described her. Wild and dangerous, yet refreshing and somehow…necessary.

Then there was panic. A Sentinel. An explosion. A crush. They abandoned him. They left him there on the steps, alone. They had to save the others. That's when the men took him. There was a truck and a gag, a jail cell, needles, probing, dull pains.

Finally, there were woods. Freedom. Her.

Storm stood by him now, holding tightly onto his arm, offering her support.

Beast's reverie was broken by a harsh whisper coming from the group's right. "Gambit!" Shadowcat's form could barely be seen in the dark.

"Shadowcat!" Cyclops responded, crossing the length of the room. "Where's Wolverine?"

"Right here." Wolverine came up behind Shadowcat, his six claws already extended.

The group of six spun around as the sound of clapping hands echoed in the room. A tall figure dressed in a sleek pin-stripe suit emerged from the shadows. He clapped his hands together while chuckling with sickening glee. "Well, well, well," the man spoke. "What have we here?"

"Who the hell're you?" Wolverine snapped as he pushed his way in front of his teammates. "You in charge of this?" He stopped in front of the elegant man and grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket, his own claws still extended.

The man raised an eyebrow at him before looking over Wolverine's shoulder to Cyclops. "I suggest you control this subordinate."

"Wolverine," was all Cyclops said.

Wolverine sheathed his claws, shoving the man away from him but making no effort to move himself.

The man brushed the front of his suit as if sweeping off some disease left by Wolverine. "I must hand it to you, X-Men. I certainly thought it would take you longer than this."

"We're good." Cyclops crossed his arms over his chest, attempting to maintain a level of civility. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't give him the OK to rip you to shreds?"

"Because I have answers…**Cyclops**¸ is it?"

Gambit spoke up this time. "Start talkin' _salaud_."

The man rolled his eyes before responding. "Let's not resort to name calling, Gambit. My given name is Jacob Nast. I served under the man you know as Colonel Wraith for quite some time before becoming a Colonel myself."

Wolverine's veins nearly popped in his neck at the mention of Wraith.

"I learned a lot from Wraith. He was like a mentor to me. But, to be quite frank, his goal was not as lofty as my own. He tested on mutants for the sole sake of experimentation – just to see a reaction. I'm not nearly as cruel. I test on mutants for the benefit of all mankind – both mutants and baselines humans."

"Get to the point, Nast." Cyclops stood stoically.

"The point **is**, Mr. Summers, that valuable strides in medicine can be made from these experiments. Rather than fight each other, we should be working together."

Storm and Beast stepped forward simultaneously. "You're joking right?" Storm questioned. "You actually expect us to help you **torture **mutants?"

"Torture? Now, really, Miss Munroe. I hardly –"

"Storm," she corrected him flatly.

"Excuse me?"

Beast stepped in front of Storm protectively. "Call her Storm."

Nast's face seemed to brighten, a gaping smile spreading across his face. "Henry! Henry McCoy! Ah yes, I remember you **quite** well. I must say, though, you were not quite as impressive as we had hoped. To be honest, we learned nothing from you and I wouldn't do that if I were you, Miss Pryde." Nast turned around to face Shadowcat, frozen mid-way between jail cells.

After a brief moment she finished phasing, only to be met with five armed guards surrounding her. Within seconds, guards had been stationed to each X-Man.

All took their battle positions – Gambit tightened his grip on a deck of cards, Cyclops's hand rose to his visor, Beast crouched lower to the ground, and the faint rumbling of thunder could be heard in the distance.

Wolverine couldn't hold back any longer. He growled loudly, diving through the air and snapping his claws out. The sound of bullets ricocheted off the wall as the guards opened fire. In seconds, Wolverine was splayed on the ground, smoke from the heat of bullets rising off his body.

"LOGAN!" Storm flung herself in his direction, only to be restrained by more guards.

"Tha's it _capo_. You wan' fight, you git a fight." Gambit spun in a circle, slamming his bostaff into the stomachs of several guards.

Simultaneously, Cyclops unleashed his beams on the ground in front of him, uprooting four of the soldiers standing near him, causing them to topple to the ground.

Beast sprang into the air, grabbing hold of one of the fixtures, and using as it as an anchor to swing from. Getting just enough leverage, he was able to swing forward, crashing his feet into the chest of two soldiers.

Shadowcat made quick work of three men, phasing through one before spreading her arms out on either side and smash her fists into two noses.

The contents of the large room began to rattle as Storm conjured up her winds. Turning sharply to her left, she threw her arms forward. As if physical contact had been made, three soldiers slammed into the jail cell behind them before crumbling to the ground.

Unable to move, Wolverine could already feel his injuries starting to heal. He held back a cough, spitting blood out onto the floor. His eyes slowly blinked open as he raised his head slightly. Squinting to focus, the blurry image before him began to merge into one scene; he knew he'd be too late, but he had to try, "KITTY!"

Shadowcat delivered one final kick to her attacker and spun around upon hearing her name called. She hardly had time to react as she felt the barrel of a gun punch into her gut. She looked up to see Nast smiling down on her. The force of the shot caused her to double over as pain rippled through her body. She reached out, clinging to the front of Nast's suit, her eyes wide-opened, locked with his gleeful stare. The world suddenly went dark as she collapsed to the floor.

_**Note:** _Salaud _'Bastard' and _capo _'coward.' Hope you enjoyed it. As always, R/R are appreciated._


	12. Chapter 11 Playin the Fool

Chapter 11: Playin' the Fool

_**Disclaimer:** One day…_

"KITTY!" Wolverine ran to where Shadowcat's limp body fell, his own bloody form falling roughly to the ground beside her. Choking back a growl, he pressed a large callused hand over the gaping wound in her abdomen. Blood immediately pooled over and around his hand, pouring out uncontrollably.

Storm never heard the shot echoing off the jail cells. Howling winds continued to fill the room, bodies thrown like puppets on strings against the walls. An explosion to her right caught her attention, but as she spun around to help Gambit, she caught sight of Wolverine hunched over a body in center of the room.

She yelled to him, "Wolverine?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he looked around him for something – anything – to stop the bleeding.

Storm was there in an instant, the stricken look on his face making her blood run cold. Wolverine's voice was deadly soft. "He shot her." Storm took over, removing the bandage from her own already clotted wound and pressing it firmly to Shadowcat's abdomen.

A deeper growl rumbled in Wolverine's throat. His voice was louder this time. "He fuckin' shot her!" Six metal claws shot cleanly from his bloody hands as he let out a feral yell. Within seconds, he was slashing his way through stunned soldiers, showing no mercy as he plunged his claws into the chest of one and through the neck of another.

Storm bit back her own urge for revenge, instead focusing on her fallen friend. She never expected to see this – her best friend, her Kitty Kat, bleeding to death in front of her. A red percussive beam shot through the air in front of her, breaking her from her stunned silence. "Cyclops!" she called out. "We have to go!"

Cyclops spun around and delivered a knock-out punch before running to where Storm sat cradling Shadowcat's body. "What happened?" His voice was stoic – the definition of calm.

"That bastard shot her, Scott! What the hell do you think happened?" Storm was on the verge of hysterics, her suppressed emotions bubbling to the service. Thunder clapped ferociously outside as rain pelted the windows.

Cyclops looked around to assess the situation in the room. Gambit and Beast fought smoothly, holding off a few of the tougher soldiers. Wolverine was certainly holding his own, the animal in him controlling his movements. For the first time, Cyclops didn't even want to try to stop him. Turning back to Storm, he replied, "Let's get her to the jet."

Shadowcat's eyes fluttered open briefly – just long enough for her to cough violently, a stream of blood flowing steadily from her mouth – before closing them again.

Biting back his own anger, Cyclops added with force, "Now."

Lifting her gently but swiftly, he called over his shoulder, "Beast! Help me get her to the jet!" before running out of the room.

Beast followed him without question, leaving Gambit to deal with the last remaining soldier. Gambit grinned with his mouth but glared with his eyes. "Looks like it jus' you an' me now, mon ami."

Wolverine finally reached Nast as he was trying to sneak away. Grabbing him by the back of his neck, Wolverine slammed the Colonel into the wall. He pinned him there with his left arm, two claws of his right hand extending on either side of his prisoner's neck. Although the animal in him told him to kill the man swiftly and brutally, there was still a side to Wolverine that wanted to see the man suffer – to die slowly and painfully for hurting Kitty. His middle claw extended slowly, barely pricking the Colonel's neck. A small bead of blood surfaced. "Any last words, bub?"

"Y-You can kill me if you want, Wolverine. Although I-I assure you…it will not change what has been…what has been done here," Nast stammered, his arrogant tone still seeping through the tremor in his voice.

Wolverine snarled, his face only inches from his captive's. "Maybe not. But keepin' you alive won't either—"

"Wolverine! No!" His head turned quickly to look over his shoulder. What he saw sent chills even to his adamantium laced bones.

Storm hovered slightly above the ground. Her eyes glowed, their eerie bluish-white shining brightly in the dark room. Her hair whipped across her shoulders and face in time with her violent airstreams.

The howling wind whistled so loudly, Gambit had to cover his ears. "Mon dieu," he mumbled under his breath.

Thunder rolled in the distance as a flash of lightening illuminated the room briefly. Her voice echoed with all the calm and serenity in the world. "It's my turn."

Wolverine hesitated only briefly before turning his attention back to the trembling Nast. "Ain't like me t'turn down a request from a pretty lady." He sheathed his claws and dropped the Colonel to the ground.

Nast immediately stood, trying to regain his footing. His efforts were met with a vicious current of wind.

"No!" Storm exclaimed, pinning him once again to the concrete wall behind him. "You don't get to move."

"L-look, we c-can –"

Lightening struck the ground in front of him, sending concrete and debris into the air. "Shut up." Without taking her eyes off of Nast, she spat out, "Gambit. Wolverine. Clear the room."

"Darlin'—"

"I said clear the room." Another gust of wind picked up Wolverine, slamming him against the wall beside Gambit. Gritting his teeth, Wolverine began slicing through the jail cells, less in the hopes of finding survivors and more to vent his frustration.

Storm had moved closer to Nast, now standing with her face inches away from his. He could feel the electricity radiating from her body – could see sparks dancing across her skin.

She punched him once, literally shocking him with the current running through her hand. While his head snapped to the side, his cheek – charred from the heat of electricity – was left vulnerable. She took the opportunity to punch him again, this time delivering two rapid uppercuts to his jaw. Each punch was laced with a high voltage. Her winds still held him to the wall as Nast lifted a hand to his broken jaw.

She said nothing as she slowly backed away from him. There was nothing to say – nothing that would undo the damage he had done, the lives he had destroyed, the life that still hung in the balance.

Gambit slipped out of the last cell, his shoulders sagging. He looked up to Wolverine and shook his head slowly. He stole a sidelong glance at Storm before returning to the jet.

Wolverine hung back, standing in the shadows of a corner.

Colonel Nast seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as Storm increased the distance between them.

She sneered and hissed out, "Stupid man." With one lightening strike, the rattling windows shattered, raining broken glass across the room. Gale-force winds blew in, bringing heavy drops of rain with them.

Wolverine clung to one of the nearby cells, grounding himself against the powerful gusts.

Within seconds, the inside of the room was soaking wet, illuminated by Storm's constant barrage of lightening. It took less than a minute for Wolverine to recognize the smell of charred skin. He broke his gaze from Storm and looked to the target of her lightening. Every time the room lit up, Colonel Nast jolted off the ground, each bolt striking his lifeless body. He was dead. Wolverine knew it. Storm knew it. Yet she continued on.

"Storm!" Wolverine shouted over the howling winds.

She turned to face him, anger and grief marring her beautiful face. The room grew dark again as she crumpled to the grown.

Instantly, Wolverine was by her side. He reached out to help her up.

"Don't touch me!" She spat out.

He moved away slightly, taken aback by her outburst towards him.

She held out her hand to show him the sparks still jumping across her skin. "I don't want to hurt you."

Understanding, he simply stood. "C'mon. Let's get outa here."

* * *

When they reached the jet, Wolverine went immediately to the medical cot in the back.

Storm turned to Gambit. The usually charming Cajun sat in the co-pilot's chair with a look of defeat plastered across his face.

"Remy?"

"We failed 'em Stormy."

"Excuse me?"

"We supposed to be heroes an' we couldn' even save one," He looked up to see Cyclops coming from the back of the plane.

"We need to get her back to the mansion."

"Can't help but feel like we coulda done more," Gambit continued.

Cyclops flipped on several switches and the jet hummed. "Not now Gambit."

The stricken Cajun just stared into space. "Dere were so many of 'em. Me'be we coulda—"

"Gambit!" Cyclops barked, "You can either move over and whine or shut up and help pilot this thing!"

"I'll help you, Cyclops." Beast joined them in the front of the jet and sat down. "Let Gambit relax."

As the jet took to the sky, Storm gave Gambit's shoulder a gentle squeeze and headed to the back of the jet.

* * *

MedLab

30 Minutes Later

Jean's own team had returned to the mansion hours ago. There was nothing left at the other locations. Everything had been cleared out.

Now, she paced nervously from one end of the room to the other, double checking everything in her head. She had sterilized all of her surgical tools, had prepared one of the beds, and had even thought to open all of the doors from the hanger to the elevator and from the elevator to the lab.

Fifteen minutes ago, shouting had woken Jean from her nap. She had quickly recognized the voice as Scott's, communicating through their psychic rapport. The urgency in his voice was unusual for him, especially when he was in charge of a mission. As soon as he had explained the outcome of the mission to her, she had called out to the Professor and raced to prepare the med-lab.

All she could do now was wait.

"Jean?"

She spun around to face the tall man standing in the doorway. "Peter."

"I came to discuss something with you, but I see you are busy." He looked around, taking in the site of the room. He noticed Jean's tray of instruments set out by the bed. His heart beat frantically against his chest. He swallowed against the growing lump in his throat. "What has happened?"

Despite her best efforts, Jean's face did little to conceal her fear. "There…There was…" Her mind raced to come up with the right words. Then, suddenly, her expression went blank.

_I'm ready Cyclops. I'll meet you at the elevator._ Then, to Colossus she said, "They're here. I need you out." She pushed past him and made her way to the large service elevator.

Colossus followed her, his heart thumped wildly as if it knew something his mind did not. "Katya," he whispered to himself.

The elevator doors opened. With Storm right behind them, Cyclops and Wolverine raced out, each man helping to carry Shadowcat's limp body to the med-lab. A trail of blood spilled on the floor behind them.

"Katya!" Colossus called out as he started to run after them. Beast and Gambit were there immediately, holding the Russian's massive form against the wall.

Colossus continued to cry out her name, struggling in vain to push past his two assailants.

"'ey 'ey 'ey! Y'gotta calm down, homme! Calm down!"

Suddenly, his heavy body went limp and he crumbled to the floor unconscious. Beast and Gambit looked up to Jean. "He'll be okay," was all she said as she closed the door to the med-lab.

* * *

5 Hours Later

Ororo stepped out onto her moonlit balcony and closed her eyes, allowing the wind to caress her skin.

Kitty had been out of surgery for nearly an hour and had yet to wake up. Jean said it would be touch and go for a while, but she was lucky. She shouldn't have made it this long.

Ororo opened her eyes and snorted. Lucky. She leaned against the rail, considering how frivolously the word was used.

"We need t'talk."

She wasn't startled. She'd been expecting him. "So we do."

"I saw you."

Ororo turned to face him. "Excuse me?"

Logan moved next to her, leaning against the rail and looking at the large expanse of the mansion's lawn. He took a deep breath. "With the Cajun. I saw him holdin' ya. I saw the way ya clung to him. That's fine. He's like yer brother. I get that. Ya love him in a different way."

Before she could open her mouth, he turned to look at her. When she saw the pained look on his face, all she wanted to do was grab him – to hold him in her arms, telling him she loved him and only him.

"But ya know what hurts the most, 'Ro? What really digs around inside me?"

Her watery blue eyes met his steely gaze.

"That ya didn't trust me. Most the people I meet are afraid of me. I can smell it on 'em. But you...I thought you were different. Thought you knew me deep down t'my core. Never thought you'd be afraid t'tell me what ya felt. Even if it meant lovin' another man."

With that, her jaw dropped. "What? Logan I don't --"

He raised his hand as if to say stop. "It's fine Storm. I get it now. Jus' my fault fer playin' the fool too long."

At the use of her codename, she looked down, trying to hide the sadness on her face. She said almost inaudibly, knowing he would hear her anyway, "Storm?"

"I gotta get outa here for a while." He pushed off the railing and moved to the door.

Looking up, the tears finally fell. "Logan!" she called out to him her voice cracking.

He kept moving. He wouldn't look back; he couldn't. One glance at her beautiful face streaked with tears and he'd be done for. His resolve would crumble. No. He had to go. She didn't love him and he wouldn't make her. "I'll be gone in the mornin'," was all he said before leaving her on the balcony.

Heavy raindrops fell, slowly at first, as Ororo sank to the ground alone.


	13. Chapter 12 All and Sundry

Chapter 12: All and Sundry

Disclaimer: Maybe Marvel just doesn't recognize my ownership?

As if the bright lights on the ceiling and the guard rails on the bed weren't quite enough, the beeping was get really annoying. And not just a little annoying, either. Annoying like a drill to the cranium.

"Turn it off, PLEASE."

Peter chuckled, giving Kitty's hand a gentle squeeze. "The Professor just wants to monitor your vitals. He wants to make sure you are still breathing."

Kitty just rolled her eyes. "You know, in the old days, they'd just feel your throat or watch your chest go up and down."

Had she blinked, she would have missed the brief roaming of Peter's eyes. She raised an eyebrow at his quick appraisal. "Like what you see?"

Peter smiled sheepishly. "You are feeling all right?"

Kitty sighed and closed her eyes, lulled by the circles Peter's thumb was rubbing on the back of her hand. "Oh…another day, another dollar."

"You do not want anything to drink? To eat?"

"No, I'm good. Not sure I could hold much down, anyway."

"Are you sure?"

She opened one eye and then the other. "I'm okay. Really."

"Are you cold? Do you want a blanket?"

Kitty groaned. "A bullet to the gut couldn't kill me, but you might very well smother me to death."

Peter winced and pulled his hand away, but kept his eyes locked on hers. "Do not talk like that."

She tried for several moments, but in the end she couldn't hold his gaze. She looked to her hands, folded in her lap. "Sorry. Bad joke."

He continued to watch her for a while. Without speaking, he reached for her hand, took it in his own, and drew several smooth circles on her wrist before pressing it against his lips.

Kitty watched him in silence before saying, "Peter?"

He only closed his eyes, feeling her pulse beat beneath his lips – more proof that she was, in fact, alive.

Kitty brought her other hand to the side of his face. "Hey…look at me."

The light above her bed reflected off the tears welling in his eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere."

At this, Peter smiled a little and exhaled. After kissing her gently on the lips, he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Kitty's hand traveled to the back of his head, her fingers running through his hair. She closed her eyes and whispered, "I love you, Big Guy."

She could feel him smile against her neck. "I love you, Katya."

* * *

Ororo Munroe floated scant inches above the lake, one hand dipping into the water causing ripples in the surface. She shut her eyes, the brightness of the sun making the underside of her eyelids red. Keeping her lids closed, she moved her eyes from right to left, watching greenish-blue patterns drift across the red background.

Logan had been gone for nearly half a month and this was the first sunny day since. Sick of the whispers in the hall and the abrupt silences whenever she walked into a room, Ororo had decided that enough was enough.

If she could not be happy, she could at least give the impression of happiness.

* * *

"Who she think she's foolin'?"

"'Scuse me?"

Gambit gestured toward Ororo through the third story window. "She think just 'cause it's sunny out eve'thing all better?"

Rogue moved to stand beside him, setting her diet coke on the sill. "How long has she been down there?"

"'Bout an hour."

"Ah can't believe he'd up and leave like that. Danged fool."

Gambit turned to her. "Shoulda stopped him, y'know?"

"Remy –"

"Non. Remy talked t'him 'for he left."

* * *

**Two weeks earlier…**

"...an' here y'are. Up here actin' like an idiot."

"Yer treadin' on dangerous ground, Gumbo…"

Gambit leaned over the balcony railing, twisting a dwindling cigarette between his thumb and index finger. "Dis whole thing b'tween y'two? I's gettin' a little outa hand. Jus' like the play. Much ado 'bout nothin'."

Wolverine couldn't for the life of him figure out why he was still standing here listening to Gambit's advice, if you could even call it that; but his last statement surprised even Logan. "Beast comin' back from the dead ain't nothin'. Her turnin' to you—"

Gambit nearly shouted at him, "It ain't 'bout our boy Blue and it sure as hell ain't 'bout me!"

Deaf to his assurance, Logan stated flatly, "She's gotta make a decision."

Gambit sighed, exasperated. "You daft, mon ami? Dere was never a decision t'make." He watched Logan momentarily before following Logan's gaze across the expansive lawn. Pushing himself off the rail, Gambit added for clarity, "It was you, homme. It was always you."

In an instant, his cigarette was smashed into the ashtray and Remy was back inside the mansion.

* * *

**Now…**

"Right here's fine."

Peter set Kitty on the ground gently, helping her get into a sitting position against a nearby willow tree.

Everything about the medlab was beginning to grate on Kitty – the smell, the sterilization, the stuffiness – and, with surprisingly little effort, she had been able to convince the Professor that some time spent in the sun would be good for her. Peter had taken a little more work, but he eventually caved. He had picked her up, carried her out of the lab, up the elevator, out the back door, and across the lawn to the lake.

Once she was comfortable, Kitty yelled out in her best British accent, "Oi!"

A startled Ororo splashed into the cold water in the middle of the lake. When she resurfaced a moment later, she was met with laughter from the two on the shore. "Yes, I'm all right! Just fine," She called out upon reaching the grass.

Still, she couldn't help but smile warmly when she reached them under the willow. "Hey, big brother," she said to Peter as he bent to kiss her cheek.

"You are wet." He smiled ruefully.

Ororo delivered a mock glare to Kitty. "Yes, well, no thanks to Miss Kitty-kat here."

Kitty beamed up at her from the ground. "I do my best."

Ororo sat down next to her, linking their arms together. "You look good."

"This hurts more than I'm letting on."

"I bet." She looked up to Peter. "It's a little chilly. Think you could grab me a sweater?"

Sensing Kitty's desire to be alone with Ororo, Peter smiled and said, "Certainly," before turning and heading back toward the mansion.

Once he was out of site, Kitty turned to Ororo. "So how are ya?"

Ororo sighed. "Ah, yes. The infamous 'how are ya' opener."

"What?"

"In all the years we've known each other, very rarely have we begun conversations with 'how are ya'?"

"I dunno what you're talking about. I just wanted to get out of the medlab and, seeing as this was the first sunny day in weeks, I thought it'd be the perfect day to get out."

After a few moments, she added, "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Ororo laughed. "Sneaky. And no, I wouldn't happen to know."

"It's not healthy."

"I know."

"It's not smart."

"Ah, I know this, too." Ororo closed her eyes, leaning her head against the tree trunk.

"All right."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, only to be broken by Ororo. "You remember when you can back to the X-Men, after Excalibur disbanded?"

Kitty frowned, a little confused at the question. "Sure."

"We battled Juggernaut in South Korea. You pointed out that I wasn't telling you the whole story, and I asked for your trust."

"Okay."

Ororo opened her eyes to look at Kitty. "I had it, didn't I? Your trust?"

Kitty's eyebrows furrowed. "Absolutely."

"Then why couldn't he trust me? Why couldn't he believe that I love him?"

With that, the dangling branches of the willow tree were pulled aside, revealing Peter. "I brought your sweater, Katya, and an extra blanket."

Ororo stood, plastering on a smile for Peter's sake. "I think I'll go change – put on some dry clothes." She paused to give Peter's arm a gentle squeeze before exiting the shade of the tree.

* * *

No sooner had she stepped foot on the veranda than Beast came bounding out the door.

"Ororo! Just the person I was looking for."

Their relationship over the past couple weeks had simmered to amiable. They weren't good friends – they may never be as close as they had been – but they had grown considerable closer since the last mission.

"Hank, I was actually about to shower."

"Ah, yes. Well, I just wanted to talk to you about something."

"What about?"

"Us."

"Henry…"

"No. I have to say this. Please?"

Wrapping her arms around herself, she turned her head to look over her shoulder to the lake, then to the woods, then back to the mansion – anywhere to divert her eyes. Still, no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't help but return her gaze to his. What she saw – the pain reflected in his cobalt eyes – nearly broke her heart.

With a quiet sigh, she relented. "All right."

"I…Ever since I learned you were with Wolverine, I had planned out what I would do if he weren't in the picture. His leaving seemed like a God-send. It presented the perfect opportunity for me to rush in and save the day – protect you from the scoundrel."

Ororo couldn't prevent the snort that escaped her throat.

"But that's not how it worked out at all. He left you alone and I just wanted to clobber him. It's sickeningly ironic, really. I hate him for hurting you the way he has. I'd just as soon call him up myself if it meant you wouldn't hurt anymore."

One perfectly arched eyebrow raised in surprise of his admission.

Beast continued. "But then I realized that if he were back here, I'd be just as angry with him. I'll never like him. I'll never like the two of you together. Or apart." He let out a small, humorless laugh. "See, I don't want to be like this. I don't. I want to walk away, but every time I try…I don't know. My resolve breaks. I think to myself "Henry, she's moved on. It may be unfair and her choice may be of irresolute character—"

"Henry..."

"Sorry. I guess…well, I guess what I mean to say is that I have tried. It's just not enough I suppose. I need to get away for a while."

Ororo's eyes widened. Henry leaving? "Where would you go?"

"The Professor has a geneticist friend in Chicago. He's set me up to work there in a sort of mentorship. I'll be partnered with Cecilia Reyes. You remember her, right? She went to the school."

"I think I remember; but Hank, this is fantastic. I'm so happy for you. I mean that."

Ororo smiled.

Beast smiled back.

After a moment, "You kind of want to pee your pants, don't you?"

He looked as though he would break into a fit of giggles at any moment. "Absolutely! I'll get to spend as much time in the lab as I ever have, but I'll be helping with ground-breaking research."

Ororo gently poked his side with her elbow. "Not to mention an attractive partner?"

To his credit, Beast flushed beneath the blue hair that covered his face. "Yes well, that certainly makes things more interesting."

They stood in silence for a while before Beast finally said, "Well, I should go pack. I'm leaving tonight."

Ororo looked surprised. "So soon?"

"I think it's best." He gave Ororo a sort of half smile before turning back to the front door.

"Henry?"

He stopped without turning around. "Yes?"

"I'm glad you're back."

He slanted his head just enough to look at her over his shoulder. After a moment, he turned and walked back to her. "Why don't you go after him?"

Ororo was visibly taken aback. "What?"

"Wolverine. What's stopping you from going out and finding him?"

She sighed loudly, turning her head to watch a cloud disappear behind the mansion. "He left Henry."

"So did I."

She turned back to him, but said nothing.

He continued, "So did Forge. And so did every other guy you've claimed to love."

"I did love—"

"Apparently not enough. You of all people know that you have to fight. The Professor's dream has become your own. You fight for that every single day. You stand up against the atrocities in this world. You fight for the underdog. So why, then, are you so unwilling to fight for the man you love? Is he so unworthy—"

"Logan is not unworthy!" Ororo snapped.

"Then go after him!" Hank's roaring yell surprised both of them.

They stared at each other for several moments before Hank sighed and turned away, walking quickly back into the mansion. He shut the door softly behind him, leaving Ororo to stand alone on the veranda.

* * *

The rain had stopped. After weeks of steady rainfall and flash floods, the sky had been healed and the sun allowed to shine.

Logan winced, allowing his eyes to readjust to the light. He lit the cigar in his mouth and took a puff before looking to the sign swinging above him. Syd's bar had provided little of the reprieve he'd been hoping for, the numerous bottles of beer doing nothing to numb the aching in his chest.

An as yet indefinable aching. He missed her, that was obvious; but the pain he felt was different than anything else he knew. Logan remembered when he first knew he loved Ororo. The pounding in his chest had reverberated in his head, had caused his stomach to flip, and had sent shocks all the way to his hands and feet. Eventually, the pounding subsided.

No. Logan froze beside his motorcycle, letting the cigar drop to the ground. The pounding had never subsided; he'd simply gotten used to it. It became as natural to him as breathing.

He swung his leg across the seat of his motorcycle and flipped up the kickstand. With one last look at the cloudless sky, he revved the engine and sped off down the road.

The pain he felt now was emptiness and only one person could help him.


End file.
